


they call her love

by mellieforyellie



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellieforyellie/pseuds/mellieforyellie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>here in town, you can tell he’s been down for a while, but oh, it’s so beautiful when he smiles. — post-war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. been tryin' hard not to get in trouble, but i've got a war in my mind

**Author's Note:**

> this is…dark. this is sad & angsty & utterly real. these kids were in a war. life isn’t sunshine and sprinkles. 
> 
> also, i have honestly not read the manga in ages. i’m still catching up right now, so if i don’t have every little detail right, please forgive me. i only have the general knowledge of everything that’s happening at the current moment.

The war was over.

Well, in a literal sense, it was over. There was no more fighting, each shinobi had returned to their respective villages, replaced their hitai-ite, gone back to what they were doing before. Everything was supposed to be normal.

But nobody knew what “normal” _was_ anymore, especially not in Konoha. The village, still in a state of rebuild, held an air of exhaustion as if it seeped into its people from the dirt itself. Most of the shinobi work consisted of rebuilding and guard duty around the premises of the village, because although everyone had joined together for the war, they did not feel safe.

This was where the war was _not_ over — everyone was assaulted by the feelings of paranoia, distrust, and fear. Ninjas who had gone to the front line, who had watched people die, who had _almost_ died, were especially affected. The nightmares of tragedy plagued them, and already over one hundred ninjas were out of commission due to stress. Tsunade had been working with them, with _everyone_ , as best she could, but she was only one person, and there was no easy cure for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Most of them kept themselves occupied; they did what they had to, and a lot of times, that was work, work, and work. They worked day and night to forget the loss and the pain and the way they didn’t quite care about living anymore.

Ino, Shikamaru, and Choji practically breathed as one entity. One was never without the other two, as their only lifelines. The three friends cried together, grieved together, and simply _existed_ together.

Gai and Lee stuck as close as they could to each other with their same, bright enthusiasm. But anyone could see how fake the smile was that they plastered on each day, their hearts silently screaming in agony. Tenten had been cooped up in her tiny apartment for weeks, unable to accept and unable to move on. Gai and Lee visited her every day, to make her eat, make her drink, and try to at least get her out of bed though to no avail.

Kiba and Shino and Hinata, though working together during the day as part of the reconstruction crew and occasionally to sniff out petty thieves, spent a lot of time with their family. The Inuzuka’s had already been a close-knit clan, but had grown ever closer with the tragedy that had devastated most of the village. The Aburame’s, though not an overly emotional clan, had slowly begun to grow closer, valuing their time spent together. Kurenai, who was unable to work to take care of her newly born son, had her time monopolized by the only living memory of Asuma. And the Hyuuga’s became closer through the process of grieving, slowly growing less stiff. Their pain became the thread that weaved together the space between the Main family and the Branch family.

When a pair of twins was born that fall, it was decided that neither of them would be marked with the Caged Bird Seal.

Team Kakashi, and all _six_ members of it spent their time engulfed in _each other_. For the original Team Seven, with Sasuke back (willingly) in the village, they had a lot of talking to do, about everything and nothing. Sai and Yamato were mostly along for the ride, happy to be distracted from the tempest of agony that suffocated everyone throughout the village.

Everyone mourned, and everyone cried daily. It was a fact that could not be escaped— whether it was in the dead of night as they stared at ceiling, or in the middle of the day, overtaken by violent flashbacks.

Sorrow was inescapable in Konoha, and everyone simply tried their hardest to live through it.

\--

The first order of business once the shinobi had come back to Konoha was to hold a mass funeral for those who had died in combat. While large in number, it was even larger in pain.

Neji’s death had taken the hardest toll on Hinata, because although his dying words had been very clear, it took all of her courage to bow at Team Gai’s feet to tell them that he had died protecting her. She still thinks that Tenten hates her for it, but after the funeral, the only people that had seen the brunette were Lee and Gai.

Neji’s death had _not_ been her fault, her father had told her specifically, that Neji had known what he was getting into just as much as she did. Her family had been surprisingly comforting about it all, reassuring her that Neji’s death was righteous and courageous, and she was just as courageous for being prepared to die for the man who would save the world.

Ah, yes, the man who saved the shinobi world. Her relationship with Naruto was just as confusing as everything else was in her life. On the way back to Konoha, they had talked briefly, about as much as they could.

He said he needed time to sort out his feelings, assuring her that he did, in fact, like her, but everything was far too confusing and stressful and he didn’t know if he could give her the attention she deserved at the moment. With a sidelong glance at his teammates, he had given her a look that pleaded her to understand.

She had, with a sad smile and a squeeze of his hand, because there were things she had to sort out, too. And, with a laugh, “I’ve waited this long, Naruto-kun, I think I can wait a little longer.”

It had been three months since they had come back, and every time they passed each other on their way to their assignments they smiled pleasantly, and almost longingly, at each other, with an almost imperceptible brush of fingertips. When they could, when she wasn’t occupied with her father and her sister, and he wasn’t sorting things out with Sasuke, they would sit under the lamplight and just _talk_.

And although her love for her family had grown, he had his best friend back, and neither of them were quite as lonely as they were before, these were their favorite times. Both of them could talk and talk and _talk_ , and the other would listen with avidness and patience.

Naruto loved the way she would get so enveloped into his stories, with a small, genuine smile that he wasn’t even sure that she was aware of. Hinata loved the way that he trusted her, letting her into some of his darkest moments that he told, with a whisper and tears. But most of all, they both loved the way their hands linked together as they talked, an unspoken and natural movement.

Tonight happens to be one of those nights, because as she exits what is currently deemed as the Hyuuga Compound (which is really just the rubble from their old district, in the process of rebuilding), he is waiting for her just outside the building. He smiles warmly and holds his hand out to her.

“Want to go to dinner with me?”

This was different, she thought, with a blink of her eyes. He was usually preoccupied this time of day — it was only seven thirty, barely past sunset — and well, he had never asked her out to somewhere before. It was usually by pure serendipity that they came across each other to talk.

But with a graceful smile, she threads her fingers through his and says, “Of course, Naruto-kun.”

She still blushes as she feels their fingers interlock, his warm pulse against her own. He leads her to, well, she’s not quite sure where and she doesn’t particularly mind, and fills the silence with an update on Sasuke.

It was mostly legal issues — no one outside of their old genin group really particularly liked him, and even that was debatable. Several of the Kages wanted his head. It was all Tsunade could do to just stop them from coming and taking him themselves, nonetheless try to convince them to let him live.

“It’s going to take a lot of work to keep him here,” Naruto says, adopting a solemn tone. “On Sasuke’s part, and on all of Team Kakashi, you know? We just…we finally have him home. We don’t want to lose him again.”

Hinata squeezes his hand, and looks up at him with kind eyes. “You won’t. I believe in you — I believe in _all_ of you.”

He smiles down at her, and although it is pained from the pure grief he holds inside himself, it’s bright and beautiful, just as he always was. Hinata was glad she was allowed to see inside of him like she was — because while he was like the sun in nature, the moon always rose and night would come. When to others, he would turn on a light and put on a mask to hide his pain, for her he would sit in pure moonbeams and confess his greatest sorrows.

“Thanks, Hinata-chan.”

They sit in a small booth in the back of the only standing restaurant in Konoha, which had been one of the first buildings that had been rebuilt, mostly because it was still half-standing and that it was one of the few luxuries they allowed themselves to have. They talk pleasantly among the quiet ambience of the restaurant, exchanging smiles and small brushes of feet and fingertips.

“How’s your family?” he asks with a sip of tea.

She smiles. “We’re…surviving, I guess. Neji’s death really — it really, um, took a toll on us. But everything’s actually getting a lot better, from a political standpoint within the clan. I think we finally managed to bridge the gap between families. There was a pair of twins that were born and my father announced that neither child would be sealed.” She unabashedly lets a tear fall down her cheek, with a choking smile. “It’s what Neji would have fought for.”

Hinata wipes the tear away with the heel of her palm, and he holds her hand in his warm one. She smiles at him, a little truer this time, grateful for his support and simply, his presence.

They both wish they could talk about less serious topics, and simply dance upon light, easy discussions, but there were none. There wasn’t really anything that wasn’t serious — and even if there were, they would be bad ninja and probably bad friends if they didn’t talk about them with each other.

She, at the very least, was grateful that they had grown closer, even if as just friends. He meant a lot to her and if he still needed time to figure things out, that was fine. There were a lot of things to _be_ figured out, and who was she to complain? She would continue to cherish the time they spent together, because she loved him for simply _him_ , and every moment they spent together she got to know more of that.

Their food arrives, two bowls of nikujaga, and they take their first couple minutes to eat in comfortable silence, listening to the sounds that blossom around the room instead. 

Naruto is halfway done with his bowl when he sets his spoon down and looks her straight in the eye. “I have to go on a mission out of the village to convince the Kages not to kill Sasuke.”

She purses her lips and nods. She had been expecting this, on some level with the topic he had brought up earlier, just not quite this soon.

“How long will you be out of the village?” she asks with a soft voice.

He sighs, and runs his hands through his hair. “I don’t know yet, but Tsunade is thinking two months. Three at the most. One at the least.”

Hinata averts her eyes to stare into her bowl, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. She hates it when she lets herself feel a tiny blossom of inadequacy, because a large part of her is afraid he’s going to tell her that he can’t possibly consider any kind of relationship with her, ever. But a larger part tells her to stop shrinking back into her old shell, and look him in the eye.

She does, but mostly as a reflexive action to the way he suddenly grabs her hand. His eyes burn with intensity and his hand is firm around hers.

“When I come back, I want to talk about _us_ , Hinata-chan,” he says, and her heart stops.

And for a moment, she is scared, she is shaking, and she doesn’t want this kind of heartbreak in a world of already too much pain, but then he smiles like the sun and her world stops to simply admire him. No matter how far away, whether it was summer or winter, she couldn’t help but feel enveloped in his warmth and reassured by the way her world revolved to simply see _him_ in all of his beauty. So she smiles like moonbeams and laces their fingers together.

“Okay.”

She is not so scared anymore. 


	2. someone help us, 'cause we're doing our best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea how frequent these updates will be, by the way. to be honest i’m usually really infrequent with updates, but most of the time it’s because i have no idea what i’m doing, which i kind of do, here. so we’ll see what happens, & i’ll try to write as often as i can! but do keep in mind that i really write for me, & i have a life and classes and such. so.
> 
> i was really planning on having this all be one big collection of small exposé’s on each of the characters. however…it might have gone on for a little too long. so they’ll be split up into, hopefully, no more than three or four chapters. 
> 
> time will pass in between these chapters, & i know this is not exactly the “naruhina-centric” part of the story you guys were looking for, but these chapters are very important for setup for more of the tone, as well as later events in the story.

When Team Seven, in their odd six-man cell that was only verified officially because of their “high-risk prisoner”, is ready to leave on their mission, only some of them are there to see them off.

Hinata is, of course, sharing small glances with Naruto that no one could really decipher, but never approaching him, simply staying beside her teammates.  Kiba and Shino came to give them their verbal support, despite that they were still wary of Sasuke, offering their wishes of luck with tight politeness.

Ino, Shikamaru, and Chouji were a little more sincere, chatting with them for a short time before saying their goodbye’s and good luck’s.

Lee and Gai are not there, having stopped Hinata on her way there and giving them a quick apology to convey to them all. It’s a painstaking reminder of what the war had done to some.

Accompanied by ANBU guards, Karin, who had decided to stay in Konoha for a lack of anywhere else to go, and Juugo, who simply wanted to be near Sasuke, see them off as well. Sasuke reassures Juugo that he would be fine while they were gone, and Juugo nods, despite the anxious ringing of his hands.

And they’re gone, with a wave of a hand and a flicker into the forest. For those left in the remains of the village, a place barely beginning to _breathe_ again, they all begin to feel a little emptier inside.

* * *

 

They day Team Seven had left, a sudden force of overhead clouds overtook the village and had begun to rain on them. The rain had halted all reconstruction progression, and therefore, most of the shinobi were left with little to nothing to do. Some had been part of the immediate response team to cover all the in-progress construction with either a shielding jutsu, or a plastic tarp.

But aside from this small pickup in their daily quota of work, the overwhelming amount of free time they suddenly had left everyone confused and lost. Most spent their free time doing additionally menial things, like training or paperwork depending on their jobs, but they still had a surprising abundance of free time and energy without their daily quota of work.

Ino opened up her  her family’s flower shop a little earlier than usual, which was really nothing more than their greenhouse with a banner splayed over the doorway. Shikamaru and Choji were with her, as usual, playing shoji behind the register for a lack of anything better to do. Curled up with her head resting on her knees, her eyes, which had been dulled from the visions of pain and sacrifice that she had suffered, were focused on the game board but her mind was not.

She absolutely despised having time to think about anything, and though Tsunade had told her it was bad for her mental health to simply ignore these problems, Ino felt as though it hurt too much to simply think about. The pure shock and adrenaline rushing through her during the war had caused her to not be able to truly respond to her father’s death at the time. But now that she was safe inside the village, free from harm or the need to be able to respond in the blink of an eye, the pain of his loss had begun clutching at her heart.

The worst part, she thought, was that she could not avenge his death, like they all had for Asuma-sensei, simply because they already _had_. Killing anyone else because of his death was not going to get rid of the horrible feeling in her chest nor justify anything.

She remembered when she had first asked Sakura about it, too embarrassed to have asked her former shissou, who was already doing so much for the village.

“What do you think is wrong?” Sakura had asked first, not even making a move to begin examining her.

“My heart hurts,” the blonde had said in a croaked whisper. “I feel like my heart is being slowly squeezed more and more until it’s going to burst. Is this a heart attack, Sakura?”

Her friend had stared at her with sad eyes and a bitter smile, before pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m sorry, Ino. There’s nothing I can do for the aching of the soul.”

The aching of her heart had not gone away since that day, and only continued to discomfort her. Some days, Ino felt like the pure ache in her chest was paralyzing, and there had been several days when all three of them had failed to report to duty — of which they had only gotten lightly chastised for, mostly because they didn’t make a habit of it and everyone had been suffering —  and just lied on the floor made of tatami mats ing Shikamaru’s house and stared at the ceiling. When tears had leaked out of the corners of their eyes, escalating into uncontrollable sobbing, they had simply grasped hands tighter and tighter, and curled into one another for protection. As if their huddled forms could shield them from the overwhelming pain that consumed them, day by day.

It hurt sometimes, when she thought too hard about it, like she was currently. Of the three of them, she was the only one with, truly, no one left. Her mother had died years ago, and although she had very faint, fond memories of her brushing Ino’s blonde hair, they were distant and faded, like an old photograph. Her distant relatives, of course, offered to take her in, but they were unknown mostly to her, lived a day’s journey away in a small non-shinobi village in the Land of Fire, and her friends were here.

And while Shikamaru had also lost his father as well, a subject they had often dwelled upon in their mostly sleepless nights, he still had his mother. Though they were broken, they were mending because they still had each other. Chouji had not lost a family member at all, and while they had a close call with Chouza back in Pain’s invasion, she didn’t quite want to count that only fleeting moment of tragedy for him.

They had all become familiar with the agonizing and echoing pain that often wrought through them like an electrifying current from Asuma’s death, but Ino thought that nothing could quite compare to the horrible aching that had never once subsided (though sometimes became less noticeable) since her father’s death.

She doesn’t think it’s fair. She doesn’t think it should have turned out like this because, out of everyone, she was the most lost without someone to guide her. She had fallen behind everyone, barely learning enough of her family jutsu to be considered worthy of her clan, dropped out of the medical ninjutsu field because Sakura had surpassed her far more than Ino had ever thought she could, and both Shikamaru and Chouji were too far out of reach for her to even consider that she was on level with them.

“Ino?”

She immediately snapped her head up, to find both of the boys staring at her, concerned.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

They share what she thinks is an almost heartbreaking look, before Shikamaru leans over to wipe a tear off her cheek. Her eyes flicker to his wet thumb, her lip quivers for the slightest moment, before she is engulfed in uncontrollable, choking sobs.

Shikamaru pulls her to him as Chouji sets aside the shoji board and sits beside her to wrap his arms around her as well. They hold her tight as she wails in their arms, in the silent atmosphere of the green house.

The greenhouse, which, in essence, should be absolutely teeming with life, seemed almost as dead as they were on the inside. The flowers didn’t quite bloom as full as they did before, the leaves not quite as green as they had been previously. They began to wilt as she cried, as if they had only just begun stretching toward the sun, before realizing how innately pointless it was. They sagged with the same sense of longing that they all held within them.

“I j-just want Daddy back,” Ino screeches, clutching tight on the fabrics of their shirts.

She hates it when she does this, but she can find no other solution to the horrible grip that her sorrow held on her heart, than to release it in tears and shrieks.

“We know, Ino,” Chouji says, softly, tucking her head underneath his chin. “We know.”

_No_ , she thinks, shaking her head. _No, you don’t_.

* * *

 

“Do you think she hates us?” Chouji asks with a whisper. “Because we got out so much easier than she did?”

They had discussions like this sometimes, after Ino had long fallen asleep, when there was nothing more than they could do but stare at the ceiling and hope for a better day when the dawn came. In the dark shadows of the old Nara family room, the two of them — and often the three of them — talked about nothing for hours, until the sun had risen up high in the sky, and it was time for their scheduled duty.

Talking was all they could do now. They had grown up far too quickly, and the age that did not show in their physical appearance shown in their eyes, which held horrors far beyond their years. There was no more time for games or easy going happiness for them — they could leave that to the children, to those who did not quite know what it was like to experience pure terror and pain. Those who would also learn, one day, the true sorrow of combat.

The notion that Ino hated them for simply not having lost everything was, to Shikamaru’s analytical mind, completely logical and completely real, but it did not feel right to his heart. He would understand, even, if she hated them because they still had a parent — two, in Chouji’s case — and family that they cared about, because if they had switched situations, he might hate them both a little bit, too. 

But they were a family. The three, who had been chosen by destiny to be friends from when their _parents_ had been born, had formed such a close and tight-knit bond, that he did not think anything could simply begin to unravel it. The years they had spent together could never be undone by any singular force, no matter the magnitude or volume of said force. Despite the sheer tragedy and volume of pain they had all suffered through, especially her, he did not think that this was anywhere near the beginning of the end.

If they ever had an end.

“No,” he replies simply. “I don’t think so.”

And they leave it at that.

* * *

 

Chouji admits, he had gotten lucky in the aftermath of it all. 

Both of his parents were still alive, most of his family was alive and unharmed, for the most part, his clan house had little to no damage. Ino had suffered the most out of all of them, losing everything except for her meager greenhouse. Then Shikamaru, who had lost his father and several distant family members, as well as a good portion of his clan house had been damaged; and then there was him.

In every way, they have been, and always will be, a triad.

Constantly, their success had always been stacked, one always achieving more, faster, with the two lacking behind at perfect intervals of success behind the first. Their promotions to Chuunin, their family life as a whole, their collective success as ninjas, and now, their losses after the Fourth Great Shinobi War.

Chouji didn’t like to believe in fate, not after the whole Neji debacle during their first attempts at the Chuunin exams. But sometimes, he felt like it had been fate that it was Ino, the bright-eyed, fiery-tempered girl, who would become merely a shell of who she was before.

Because in a world where she had always been a steady middle, chasing desperately after Shikamaru ahead of her and cheering on Chouji behind her, but never reaching for her own half-hearted aspirations, only ever doing enough to get her by, it was only likely that she would be the one left behind in their triad.

Chouji thinks that it’s time for them to stop running, now.

After all, what was there to run toward?


	3. i can't decide if i'll let you save my life or if i'll drown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i finally caught up on the manga! and wow, ok, man, i have some inconsistencies. mostly with how i always viewed clan stuff aside from the uchiha’s and the hyuuga’s, yamato (OOPS), and possibly how long the reconstruction is taking. 
> 
> some of the characters, depicted in their 3rd person omniscent thoughts, seem a lot weaker than they actually are. that’s on purpose. that is the mind, especially for people who are depressed or suffering from PTSD. i know these characters are not weak, but i am portraying them as such (by “weak” i mean skill-wise, and somewhat emotionally) because that’s how they see themselves. 
> 
> warning for semi-graphic suicidal thoughts!! you will see that a lot of that in this, but i am warning you all just in case.

“Naruto-kun and his team are leaving today,” Lee tells her, slicing up an apple by her bedside. “Would you like to go see them off?”

Tenten doesn’t respond, which he expects, but it still stings.

Gai had left to get groceries, and they were alone together in her tiny cottage at the edge of town. 

Lee remembers when he had tried to convince her to rent an apartment closer to town, rather than suffer through the long walk it took to get anywhere of value in town. She had told him she liked it better this way, in the quiet and out of the way.

He didn’t understand then, but he does now.

Where he surrounds himself in activity and people to deal with his sorrows, she prefers to let herself loose in the silence, with the freedom to scream as loud as she can. The trees that surround her house are marred with scars from years past, and they say a lot more about her than words ever could.

“Lee,” she says quietly, wrapping her arms around her knees, “am I pathetic?”

“No,” he answers firmly. “You are the strongest person I know, Tenten, without a doubt.”

“Okay,” she says.

But he knows she doesn’t believe him.

* * *

Tenten feels disgusted with herself for a lot of reasons.

It’s hard to organize them all by value, her mind churning with thoughts she tries to keep out, and these values and thoughts fluctuate and change with the blink of an eye and the fake smile she flashes. 

But she hates herself for being weak, the one thing she advocated against her entire life. She was _not_ weak, just because she was a girl, a kunoichi — she was stronger than anyone else because of it! And yet, she had allowed herself to fall victim to this overwhelming sadness she felt. She had fought at first, tried to hold onto the happiness, the warmth she had always enveloped herself in, no matter what the consequences.

Until she realized that it was too hard for her to hold on anymore, and let herself be swallowed whole by the darkness.

She hates herself for not fighting harder. That was their motto, wasn’t it? To always fight to be stronger than they were the day before? So why couldn’t she fight, like Lee and Gai did?

Oh, that’s right, because she was _weak_ , and despite all the things she had told herself and everyone who ever doubted her, she was nothing like the brave woman she had dreamed herself up as. She wondered if she would ever live up to what she had tried to make for herself, especially after the shameful cowardice she was displaying now.

She hates herself because she had let Neji’s death affect her so much — had let the war itself affect her so much. War should not have been so different from the normal fighting she had endured throughout her normal shinobi life, but it had been. On the battlefield, she felt almost energetic with the adrenaline pumping through her veins and explosions all around her. In action, the war had been _thrilling_ , not terrifying — she lived, breathed, and ate battle, why would it be anything but enjoyable for her?

In her sleep, horrible flashbacks plagued her dreams, transforming them into too-real nightmares, black as the charred flesh of her comrades. If Tenten slept at all, she always woke up screaming. It had been months since she had a good nights rest, or any rest longer than a few hours, obvious by the dark bags under her eyes.

But never in her right mind had she anticipated that Neji would die — no, not their prized Hyuuga prodigy. She knows that he died the way he wanted to, and she thinks its almost ironic in a way, and her lips stretch into a grim smile when she thinks about it. Dying for the Main Branch, just as was the fate he fought so hard against yet believed so heavily in for far too long.

Tenten doesn’t think she loved him, not any different than how she loves Lee, but she wonders if she would be the same kind of wreck she is now if it had been him instead of Neji.

“We’re going to go see Tsunade-sama,” Gai tells her that day, with his trademark smile. But she can see that it’s not genuine, not anymore. “Get ready, we’ll wait outside.”

She won’t let anybody besides her teammates see her so vulnerable, so weak. So she makes herself just as presentable as she would be as if everything was ok, and she wasn’t buried six feet under on the inside.

Tenten gives a weak smile to anybody who passes that she knows, that acknowledge her — which is far too many people than she thinks she should have to put up an act for, and she does so begrudgingly but without pause. She looks up and waves at those who shout at her from their construction positions, and she hates herself even more because she’s not there, helping.

She thinks she is absolutely useless.

The interior of the hospital is fresh with the smell of bleach and the lingering scent of blood that can never quite seemed to be washed away, and the white walls are much too bright for her dark, blackened soul. The hospital itself is far too…fresh for her, in actuality. The sharp clicking of heels against linoleum, the clear ticking of the clock on the wall above her head, the nauseating scent of antiseptic — it’s all too overwhelming for her.

Sakura smiles at her as she enters the waiting room, with a clipboard in hand. Tenten thinks she should have seen this coming — Sakura was one half of Tsunade’s right hand (the other half being Shizune), and of course she was going to want to help.

Tenten hates that she’s self-conscious about this.

“Follow me, ok?”

Lee and Gai stay behind in the waiting room with matching grimaces, though they’re unable to do anything about it and they all know it. But Tenten’s a big girl, and she can do this by herself. She doesn’t _need_ them for everything.

The room they enter is quiet, except for Sakura’s quiet _scrit_ ches of her pen on paper, and the crinkling of the sanitary paper on the bed where Tenten is instructed to sit. She wants to flinch with every crisp _tick_ of the clock, and in the tiny room the sound is almost deafening.

“How are you feeling?” Sakura asks her, and all the brunette does is give her a _look_. “I know, I know, but it’s a standard question.”

“I feel like today is a good day to die. But then again, that’s how I feel about every other day.”

She hates herself for saying that.

Sakura’s jade eyes turn sad, and the sorrowful smile she tries to pull out of herself only turns into a pained grimace, but she writes it down on the file anyway. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, before pursing her pink lips and setting them into a hard expression.

“I’m glad you’re here today,” she says, walking toward her to begin the normal physical routine Tenten knows by heart. “We’re going to help fix that, ok? As best we can.”

The brunette bites her tongue, but doesn’t stop repeating the words she would have said over and over again in her head: _What if your best isn’t good enough_?

Suicide wasn’t something Tenten had ever quite thought about before the war, but was becoming an increasingly repetitive subject in her thoughts, during the long hours she was alone, during the early hours of the morning when there was nothing for her to distract herself with. She wondered what it would feel like to die, if she just suddenly cut open her throat with a kunai, or if she fastened a noose for herself and let herself hang from one of the many scarred trees surrounding her cottage. She wonders how much it would hurt to let loose the pretty red liquid from her veins, or if she would simply float away into nothing as she watched it pool in the clear bathwater.

“It scares me to think about it,” she tells Tsunade, her knees drawn up to her chest and eyes looking away, ashamed of her cowardice. “But at the same time, I’m scared that it’s the only way I’ll ever get rid of this feeling.”

The gnawing feeling that tried to devour her from the inside out, that tried to break open from her chest to explode out of her ribcage, the horrible nauseating monster that had nestled inside her stomach. It ate at her every day, and only got worse when she thought about anything — because these days, she couldn’t distract herself any longer. Not when she was so _pathetic_ as to confine herself to the four walls of her bedroom to try to get away from it all.

She hates herself for not being able to overcome it, to ignore it. 

Tsunade purses her lips and thinks for a long moment, and all these imaginary scenarios are rushing through Tenten’s head as fast the shuriken whirred past her ears, about how worthless she was to Konoha now, about how she’ll never recover, how she’ll never be a ninja again.

But instead, Tsunade reaches over to put a hand over hers, and looks her in the eyes with a solemn smile. “We will help you, Tenten. Until you’re ready.”

She bursts into tears in the arms her Hokage, completely vulnerable and unprotected.

Yet somehow, she feels like she is invincible.

* * *

 

Gai had been in war before.

It wasn’t like it was a new concept to him — he had _grown up_ in war, after all. His first missions were alongside his teammates in the then deadly territory of Iwa.

But it was not the war itself that makes him sad, that made his heart of gold ache deep inside his chest. It was how his students, his family, his bright beams of sunshine in his day, were filled with such torment and sorrow. It was the still numbing realization when he would turn to jab Neji in the ribs, only to realize he wasn’t there — and he would never be _there_ , again. It was the way Lee still smiled for him, but behind the grin he could see fires of anguish in his still young eyes. It was the way Tenten slumps in their embrace, and the face of his bright, brave, strong kunoichi was emotionless, expressionless, lost in the sea of numbness she had allowed herself to drown under.

It’s not war that makes him break down into tears at two a.m., but what war has made of his children. 


	4. you fought so you could tell me "i'm not the one who needs saving"

In a time of transition, Hinata did not have a lot of time for self-reflection. 

Well, it was more that she made sure she did not have time for self-reflection, despite the importance of meditation and self-balance that had been drilled into her head as a child. The Hyuuga’s still held daily meditation sessions that she often led, but she usually did not use this time to reflect like she should. It hurt too much, most of the time.

For the most part, she was able to get past the trauma of the war. She was taught mindfulness from a young age, to always live in the present moment. The past was the past and the future would come when it did, and while it was best to be as adequately prepared for it as possibly, one should not fret over it. While obviously, when she was younger, her anxiety had often over-taken this lesson, her fear of the past and future overcoming her entirely, but after the war, she had thought about this a lot.

During the war, she had been calmer, and much more at ease. She realizes that it had been because she had only been able to focus on the present moment, simply because it had been all she _had_.

She didn’t want to think about the war. After all, what was done had been done, right?

She doesn’t like to think about all the people she had killed (albeit they had only been Zetsu clones and those influenced by the Reanimation Jutsu), about all the people that had been killed in front of her very eyes. For the most part, she had been able to separate the past and the present, and keep the horrible images of bloodshed out of her mind. But occasionally she would wake up in a sweat, panting and desperately trying to muffle the sound of her sobs.

It was Neji’s death that always came to her mind, the smile he left the world with as he died. And it hurt _so, so_ much because she knows that he died because while he wanted the world to be saved, sure, he wanted her to live on as well.

The day they came back, the day after everything was over, she had spent a full day crying. Everyone had, really, engulfed in the arms of their loved ones and teammates.

She still likes to talk to him, in the privacy of her room and the silence of the forest surrounding the crater of Konoha. She likes to smile and laugh with him as she would normally, and update him on everything that had been going on despite the fact that she was positive that he was watching over her. And in the midst of this she would often find herself in tears, heart and soul aching with every fiber of her being because she missed him.

Often, as she pours over what’s left of the Hyuuga documents that have been entrusted to her by her father, she asks him if she is doing the right thing. And often, she will feel a soft breeze in her air, and she’ll close her eyes and smile because she knows that’s a yes.

 “Hinata.”

She snaps her head up from the documents she’s been reading — mostly boring scrolls, a lot of clan history since most of the jutsu scrolls were currently being transcribed once more — to look at her father. He carries himself with a kinder tone now, though still commanding respect and teeming with dignity, it was no longer cold and did not imbue fear.

“Yes, Father?” she asks, rubbing her eyes idly. They hurt just a bit from how long she had been reading under the low lamplight, but she needed the majority of these scrolls memorized by tomorrow afternoon to impress the Elders, and there was still so much to read through. Between her scouting duties, reconstruction duties, clan duties and the normal family meals she was still required to sit for, she was absolutely exhausted at the end of each day that she usually didn’t have much time to read, but she _needed_ these done. 

“Get some sleep,” he says with a concerned look. “It’s very late. You need your rest.”

She smiles at him but shakes her head. “I have to finish reading through these, I’m still not quite done and — ”

He walks forward and sets a gentle hand on her shoulder, rolling up the scroll she had currently been reading with one hand. “No one is going to judge you if you’ve missed a few details. You’ve done very well considering all the responsibilities you have.”

Hinata was still not used to such kind words from him, and beams with bashful pride. “A-Ah, thank you, Father. I suppose I’ll get to bed, then.”

He nods and with a small, gentle squeeze of her shoulder, he exits her room with a quiet _click_ of the door. She sighs and leans back into her chair, rubbing her temples, the closest place she could get to ease the pain of her eyes.

Sometimes she hates being a doujutsu user. She has a terrible, often overwhelming fear that one day she would go blind, much like the Uchiha did the more they used their Sharingan. Of course, the blindness rate among the Hyuuga was surprisingly low, although this could be because they did not let their pride get the best of them like the Uchiha had and often had their eyes healed to reduce tension and strain. But this did not stop her fear, especially seeing as she was the Heiress to the now most prestigious clan of Konoha.

As Hinata sighs and  climbs into her bed, she reminds herself to stop by the hospital tomorrow on her way home to have her eyes healed.

While she feels relatively calm as she drifts off to sleep, her dreams are anything but.

She dreams of death and blood and indescribably burning hot pain throughout her entire body. She dreams of almost dying at the hands of Pain, surrounded by a puddle of her own blood, and the way it had hurt to breathe in a disgustingly pathetic way. She dreams of the feeble way she had practically broken as Neji died before her eyes, of the tears that could not stop as she sat at the side of his dead body.

She wakes up completely and totally still, eyes wide open and filling with tears. She is too afraid to move, because everything hurts and she can’t take this, she can’t _take_ this.

She had worked so hard to become better, to become stronger, to be more than just the shy Hyuuga heiress that had done nothing to deserve her title except to be born. She fought so she could prove that she had been bred for greatness, as she was supposed to have been.

She cries harder when she thinks that this has all been for nothing, because she was born weak and she would stay weak.

* * *

 

They had taken to falling asleep together, and for the most part, Kiba doesn’t find anything wrong with it. 

Shino’s family had always been distant, though it was always understood between all of them that he was ok with it that way, and that he felt the love from his own family and that was fine with Kiba and Hinata as long it was ok with him. Lately, however, he had been coming over to what currently was defined as the Inuzuka clan house (which was…in progress) to stay. Kiba recognized the absence of proper family when he saw it — hell, they knew what Hinata’s family life had been like — and it became obvious to him very quickly that Shino wanted family love and warmth.

What better place to come to than the Inuzuka house?

They were a family in the closest sense of the word, and although the Aburame’s had been working on closing their emotional gap, the Inuzuka’s welcomed Shino with the same open arms they had for Hinata, for as long as he needed it.

The two of them shared a room, and although they constantly bickered over the state of the room — “You’re a slob, Kiba.” “Well, _you_ ’ _re_ the reason I have all these damn bugs crawling everywhere!” “Are you sure that just isn’t your filth?” — among other things, Kiba had seen more than a few pleasant grins poking out from underneath his high collar.

If Kiba was perfectly honest with himself, he absolutely loved having Shino over. He was like a brother to Kiba, and nothing would ever change that. The Inuzuka’s let him in with open arms and engulfed him in their warmth with ease and enthusiasm.

No family love was the same as their team love, though. They all saw Team Kurenai as their own separate family, and they were all brothers and sisters and nothing was ever going to change that. They all worry for each other and watch out for each other, and none of them know what they would do without any of the others. He would protect their lives with his own.

And despite the fact that it has happened several times, this is why it scares the hell out of him when Hinata comes stumbling at his window in the middle of the night in tears. The dogs no longer bark at her, familiar with her scent and the way it intermingles among his room. They are completely quiet as he pulls her through his window and cradles her in his arms.

It hurts him when she cries like this, completely out of balance and spiraling out of control. He wants to make it all better, to tell her that everything will be alright — but he knows that not only will false, flowery words not help, but that the only way he could help _her_ was to hold her tight and encompass her in his warmth.

When Shino comes back from the bathroom, he barely blinks before he is with them, with a comforting arm wrapped around her waist and a head on her free shoulder.

They feel no awkwardness or discomfort from this action of simply _being_ together, because they know that they are a family and that nothing would change that. They may not have grown up together in their childhood days, but they had become _adults_ together in the most important stages of their life. They were as inseparable as Team Asuma, Kiba thought, but without the desperate death clutch they had on one another.

As her breathing slows and her crying stops, she lifts her head from the crook of his neck and laughs, embarrassed.

“I’m s-sorry, I — I just…”

The two of them clutch her tight, and whisper, “We know.”

They know that she has fought hard for recognition and the pride that she can now carry, as the confirmed Heiress of the Hyuuga clan, something that had supposedly been up in the air for quite some time that had worried her for far too long.

But mostly importantly, he thinks, she has fought for _herself_. He knows that she has been her greatest critic and greatest enemy, and that many years of far too high expectations have weighed on her far too heavily. He was so proud to see that she no longer hid herself from the weight of these expectations, but stood proud and tall with a graceful smile that would make even the evilest man melt with kindness.

Because he knows that she is made of pure love, from the inside and out. She held a deep love for her friends, who she valued individually with consideration and tenderness. She cared for her family, despite all the years of emotional abuse, she loved them with all her heart and sought for nothing more than to see her clan succeed with a new vision of the new generation. She held a love for everyone, and always gave everyone the benefit of the doubt, sure in her trusting of humanity.

He knows that because of this love, she was a fierce fighter who would do anything to protect the ones she loves. He knows this because she has displayed it on more than one occasion, even when staring death straight in the face.

(And when he had gazed upon her, half-dead and dripping with blood, with a horrified expression full of pure agony and heartbreak, all she had done was smiled and said, “Sorry.”)

She wipes her tears off her cheeks with the palms of her heel, and embraces the both of them tightly. “I…I should probably go.”

They nod.

“See you tomorrow, Hinata-chan.”

She smiles at them as she slips out of his window. “Tomorrow.”

They sit in silence for a moment after she leaves, not moving, only breathing.

“Do you think she’ll be alright?” he asks Shino in a quiet whisper.

“Yes,” he replies, getting up to rest on his own bed. “Why? She is strong. Despite the fact that she thinks she is not, she is. She will prevail, no matter her personal issues.”

Kiba smiles and lays back. “Yeah, you’re right. Dumb question, huh?”

“Very.”

* * *

 

If there’s anything Shino cares about in his life, it is his precious people.

He was not born, nor was he necessarily raised that way. In fact, during his Academy years and for a short while as a Genin, it was only himself and his colony that he valued. But his team has taught him differently. The village has taught him differently.

He thinks that the village was the perfect representation of the true meaning of family. While everyone had their own families — clans, friends, teammates, shinobi — within themselves, everybody in the village was connected as a family as well. When things got rough, they stuck together in times of hardship and fear.

Slowly, without his realization, his precious people have become the moons that revolve around his world and that he couldn’t help but stop and admire.

It was a shock to him that this came without his notice, but rather as an abrupt awareness when they had almost lost Hinata. He had cried and yelled and it was not until after his absolute terror at the idea of losing her, had he realized how precious those close to him had become. The same fear overwhelmed him when he thought of losing Kiba, or Kurenai, or his parents, or any of the children he had grown up with as ninja.

Since then, he has been careful to take notice of his feelings, something that before, he had not necessarily needed to do. His feelings, for the most part, were under control.

But lately, he would catch himself grinning or getting particularly ticked off at Kiba, but most especially he would notice a tear falling from his eye as they hold Hinata in her racking sobs. While he knows that the way she cries, full of agony and sadness, hurt Kiba just as much, he can’t help but feel embarrassed at this blatant display of emotion, something that had previously not been a problem. 

“It’s ok,” Kiba says, as they both stare up at the ceiling and silent tears sneak down their faces. “It’s not bad to cry, y’know?”

“I know,” Shino replies. Despite that he wishes to end the conversation here, he knows Kiba will continue in the same way he always does.

“This war’s been hard on everyone. I’m pretty sure everybody cries. It’s not a big deal.”

“I know.”

“A — And y’know, we don’t have to be so strong all the time. I’m sure that no one would…hold it against us, if we just, yknow…couldn’t…hold it together all the time…”

Now Kiba was crying and so was Shino, because everything about life hurt but they just weren’t sure how to make it stop like they used to. 

“We’re only kids,” Kiba whispers shakily. “We’re just fucking kids.”

For once, Shino agrees with him.

* * *

 

If there was anything Kurenai had been thankful for over the past decade or so, it was the chance to be a mother. 

First, she was thankful to be a mother to Hinata, who so desperately needed a grounded and loving figure in her life. Kurenai was so proud to have watched her grow and change and become the proud, strong woman she was today. She smiles with a warm fondness when Hinata would visit just to visit, to play with her baby and talk to Kurenai about anything and everything. It made her so happy that Hinata would confide in her about some of her most intimate of secrets.

Now, she was thankful to be a mother for her son. His smile and laughter filled with pure innocence and happiness made her heart fill with warmth and love that had previously been emptied of her from Asuma’s death. But Ken filled that dark, empty, painful void with a renewed sense of belonging. 

She smiles and watches her beloved son sleep, with his tiny hand outstretched and curled around her finger.

She’s glad she’s a mother.

* * *

 


	5. just a chance that maybe we'll find better days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd just like to apologize because i've been updating this on it's fanfiction.net counterpart but not on here! i'll try to keep it as frequent as possible, but if not you can find me on FF under the same penname.

They sit around a small fire that crackles with warm and light, but they do not share the same qualities.

They only wish they did — they yearn for sunlight in their world of darkness beneath the surface, as if they were perpetually trapped under the rubble of Konoha, doomed to forever be engulfed in the dreariness of the war’s aftermath. Their eyes stare as the flames lick the air above the pit, like tendrils grasping for something more. They were, too — but they just didn’t know quite what that something was.

They were all happy to be together again, of course, but they still felt like something was missing. As if there was still a hollow piece of them that was unable to be filled by camaraderie and blissful nostalgia of a better time.

It didn’t help that they were on a mission to prevent Sasuke from being publicly executed in three out of five of the great Shinobi Nations. That always puts a bit of a damper on their mood when it came to mind. But that was one of the things that war had taught them — don’t think. Well, don’t think of the bad stuff, that is; don’t think of the regrets, of the troubling thoughts, of the fear that ran rampant through their heads both night and day, awake and asleep.

Thinking about that only led to anxiety and nightmares.

(Not like they could escape that anyway.)

Team 7 sits around the fire and stares into it with eyes that twinkle with hope, despite the hollowness they feel inside.

They’re only trying, after all.

* * *

 

When he sleeps, all he sees are nightmares.

Flickering ghosts in black and white that are only blurs of vision in his peripheral, taunting him with claws that dig evil into his heart and fill his head with hatred. He knows it’s not Kurama, not anymore, because _that_ hatred was full of passion and anger. What he sees in his dreams is soulless.

That’s not who he is, not at all — he is full of a hell of a lot of things, but hatred, nonetheless cold, bitter hatred, is not one of them.

That’s why he sits out at the edge of the lake near their campsite, staring out at the reflection of the moon on the surface of the water. It reminded him a little bit of the way Hinata’s pale eyes jumped out behind the midnight silk of her hair.

Naruto took moments like this to think about her, about his feelings, because he had promised her he would, after all. He owed it to both her _and_ himself to think seriously about this — and if it wasn’t the only serious thing he let himself think about. He thinks about her practically all the time. In the silent periods of travel, in his sleepless nights, in the contentedly quiet moments around the fire, he thinks of her.

He thinks about how nice it felt to hold her hand, to look at her gentle smile beneath the low lamplight at their bench back in Konoha, to know that somebody had always held a fondness for him in a way that he had only dreamed of. He thinks about her kind soul, her heart of gold, and her strength that shone through in how she held herself against true evil and fear, not the little things that everyone had called her weak for.

He smiles to himself as he thinks about the way they had fought together against Madara and Obito.

He starts when a hand is placed on his shoulder, but relaxes when he turns to see Sakura lowering herself to the ground beside him.

“What’s up?” he mumbles.

She smiles at him and nudges his arm. “Shouldn’t I be asking you the same thing? It’s two in the morning.”

“Can’t sleep,” Naruto answers, almost embarrassed to be caught like this. Sakura was always bugging everyone that they needed enough sleep to stay healthy and alert, especially on the long and arduous days of nothing but travel.

She nods solemnly, pulling her knees in to her chest to rest her chin on them. “Yeah. Me neither.”

They stay like that until the sun rises, in a comfortable silence, watching as the sky grows golden in the reflection of the lake. This is peaceful, he thinks. Most of the time he spent with Sakura was always hectic, full of raucous laughter. 

He thinks that everything was fine like this, too, because he’s run out of steam for the time being. There is no Akatsuki after him, no evil villains who were endangering his precious people, Sasuke was back in the village — there were no immediate threats anymore. Nobody to fight. He can finally relax, for once in his life.

He’ll enjoy the ride for as long as it lasts.

* * *

 

Sasuke’s not sure how he feels anymore.

His heart and his emotions — his passion, his anger — used to be the sole things that guided him, and now he wasn’t sure how he felt about — well, anything.

He feels conflicted about everything involving the Uchiha clan. His brother, Obito, Madara; he wasn’t even sure how he feels about the massacre anymore. He tries not to think about that when at all possible.

He feels grateful that Tsunade had accepted him back into the village at all, despite that she had sternly told him that it was _only_ because he had helped in the fight against Madara. But he feels outcasted by everyone except his own team, and there’s still some tenseness here, too.

Not that he could blame them, he thinks.

He had abandoned everyone, for what? Power? What he had learned in the stead of Orochimaru was nothing compared to what Naruto had learned at home. He thinks that everything he did was fucking useless. Hell, _he_ was fucking useless.

He had been raised up in his brother’s shadow, sure, but he had been number one at school. Everyone loved the prodigious survivor of the Uchiha clan. Smart, strong, and brave — oh yes, his story had been so sad, but he had persevered! Sasuke had obviously been meant for great things!

And yet, he had been surpassed by the dead fucking last.

Naruto had shot so far ahead of him in terms of power and strength that Sasuke couldn’t even see how far he had to go to catch up. Not only that, he had done it without sacrificing his patriotism (despite the fact that for the majority of Naruto’s life, the villagers had hated him), in a short amount of time (he had still been so far ahead of Naruto the time they had met before the war, what the hell happened), and all with a dumb grin on his face and his comrades in mind.

Sasuke doesn’t know how he feels about all this, either.

He felt like he was floating in a monochrome abyss, unable to feel a fluctuation in his emotions — any kind of emotion. But he felt nothing instead — a fizzled out flatline somewhere in the middle.

Maybe one day he would figure out how he feels. But today, he chuckles with his friends and teammates and thinks that maybe he can make it all right again.

* * *

 

She still loves him.

Sakura knows this when she stares at his back as they travel, an image that brings back horrendously vivid flashbacks from that forsaken summer night. She hates herself for it, too — she shouldn’t be so fucking hung up on some asshole that left her, that left everyone who loved him, despite whatever the hell he thought. She should’ve gotten over him a long time ago.

She wishes that she could just decide on someone else, someone who loves her, who she could make happy, even if they couldn’t. But she was selfish. She couldn’t stomach living a life like that.

She would rather die alone than live a lie.

When they are alone at camp that night, stoking a fire, Sasuke stares into her eyes with an unspoken question that they both know the answer to. His coal eyes burn with intensity, like flickering embers in a fire.

She purses her pink lips and thinks of lies like _I hate you_ that she knows she could never repeat on her tongue. She wonders what his response will be. She wonders how quickly he will break her heart. She thinks of how often he will break her heart, even accidentally.

Slowly, she nods.

Staring into his eyes, she’s never felt so weak.

* * *

 

When all his teammates drop their backpacks on a dirt road on their first night out, Sai wonders why. After all, there were plenty of good inns that would serve them for free as “honorable war heroes” throughout the route for their journey, why should they sleep on the ground in the woods? So he asks. 

They all stare at him, with a look of an emotion that he’s not quite sure how to identify, before sharing a look amongst themselves.

“It’s better this way,” is what Kakashi says. Everybody nods with him, and begins setting up camp in a mechanical manner that was frighteningly familiar to him.

Sai has never felt so left out before.

* * *

 

Yamato knows he does not quite belong with them. He knows that he was simply an add-on, an extension to a weapon of already great power and potential. He also knows that Sai is aware that he is of the same kind. 

But he feels welcome anyhow; they make no attempt to exclude him, and the only one who does so unintentionally might be Sasuke, who has no history of interactions with the older man, unlike the other four. Yamato is able to laugh with them, to share in palpable silences, to stand up for their —his— comrade alongside the rest of them.

The pleasant company of his friends was all he could ask for at a time like this.

* * *

 

Kakashi was proud of his students.

He did not judge the way they sunk into their frames with exhaustion (mental, emotional, and physical) in the light of the campfire, but instead felt pride bubble up inside as they stood proud and tall in front of others. To him, the way they shone with confidence and exuberance in defense of their friend despite the hardships they had been through was phenomenal. He had shone no one any face after the suicide of his father, nor after the death of Obito and Rin.

They had come so far, his students. 

But he knows that he had little part in it. He knows that they learned all of this from their phenomenal teachers, the Sannin, who were on a completely different level than him. He knows that there was a lot of their progress that had been their own pure determination and will power. He knows that he had a limited role in their growth as ninja, and he was giving himself the benefit of the doubt when he says that he had a somewhat significant part in who they have become as people.

Despite this, he does not feel as though he has failed them.

“Kakashi-sensei, come on,” Sakura yells to him from their campsite. “There’s no excuse for you to be late here!”

He chuckles and holds up a hand in apology. “Sorry. Got lost on the road of life.”

They all roll their eyes at him, but they smile in an almost sad way, and he meets their eyes that hold an emotion that he knows well.

He may not have been their greatest influence, perhaps, but they are a family and they understood one another all too well.


	6. thinking maybe you'd come back here to the place that we'd meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapter's have been in vignette style for a while, but we're back to normal!

They were finally on their way home. It had taken almost two months, and so much talking. On their last couple day’s stretch to travel back home they all walk with a slugged gait and pass the time in an exhausted silence.

Their mission had been an arduous task, both mentally and emotionally. They had all been drained of energy and willpower after the end of the war, finally content to relax in the peace of their new world. The news that some nations wanted Sasuke’s head had been almost earth-shattering to them; and so despite their tired souls and aching hearts, they mustered up whatever strength of will they had to save their friend.

They had traveled to Iwagakure first, as it was farther away from the other two and more than likely, the most stressful. The Tsuchikage was a stubborn old man, and he had never taken to Naruto’s brashness, nor his so-called “complete and utter disregard for authority”.  They figured that if they could convince the Tsuchikage, they could win the other two over without much effort.

It hadn’t been easy, they would admit that much. Ohnoki had definitely been stubborn as they thought he would be, and his chosen advisors had been just as opinionated and loud as the old man was. They had stayed a little over a month in Iwagakure, the longest of their stays, simply because of all the arguing that had occurred. 

Calm logic and reasoning was not the way to go, in that particular case — and Naruto had been the only one willing to fight that way at first. Of course, he was the only one that Ohnoki _wouldn’t_ listen to. One by one, the rest of Team 7 became more aggressive in their defense of Sasuke — even Sai, who by no means felt any sort of connection to his new teammate. When asked why, by Sasuke no less, he had replied, “Because you are dear to my friend. Therefore, you are my friend, as well.”

Eventually, the Tsuchikage had conceded, albeit begrudgingly. He warned them, however, that the moment Sasuke did anything that could be considered aggressive toward Iwagakure or any of it’s shinobi, he would not hesitate to order for his assassination. Although the threat hung heavy in their heads, they left the Land of Earth feeling some relief sinking into their hearts.

They had made their next trek to Kirigakure, and the journey there had been almost unfortunately long. They had ended up crossing through the remains of Otogakure on their way there, and they all watched as Sasuke tightly clenched his fists as they passed half-buried skeletons with their hitai-ite’s still tied to them. They had said nothing.

They all watched as they passed the crumbling ruins of Uzushiogakure, the small island visible from their boat. Naruto’s throat had closed up, and his hands trembled in his tight grip. They all stared in a sad silence as it came and went, and did not judge Naruto for the tears he let fall.

They were greeted with open arms when they finally arrived on the central island, despite that behind the welcoming smile from the chosen ambassadors, they could see a sharp coldness behind their eyes. Their words were tight and laced with saccharine praise. While Team 7 had courteously smiled and doled out their own string of compliments, it was purely political. It was an unspoken agreement among the six of them that these were the people they did not quite trust.

However, they were, ironically, the most easily persuaded — the Mizukage and chosen her company were calm and listened to Team 7’s prepared speeches about why Sasuke should be allowed to live. Mei held little contempt for Sasuke, and the only incident she brought up in refute was the Five Kage Summit. Despite protest from some of her aides, of which she had quickly silenced, they were grateful for her leniency on the matter. She had sent them off and on their way to Kumogakure before they had even stayed in the misty village for three days.

Meeting with the Raikage, however, was probably the tensest situation of them all. Despite that Naruto had hoped for it to go easily, A was a stern man who kept to his convictions. The most prominent of these convictions was something that was quite akin to Naruto: protect your precious people at all costs. It was hard to argue when he brought up the fact that Sasuke had attempted to kill Bee back when he was a part of Akatsuki.

They had made Sasuke formally apologize, which was a long and ostentatious process that involved an unfortunately long letter in which he apologized for each of the grievances Kumogakure had against him, and a public spar of which he had to lose on purpose. Sakura had rolled her eyes and said it was typical of boys. But then again, they were ninjas and really, she knowa that’s just how things are.

So despite the long, somewhat arduous and completely draining quest of theirs, Sasuke was okay. After the fight they had gone through and ass-kicking it had taken to get him back, they knew they weren’t going to let anything change that.

Naruto is just grateful to be close to home again. He knows this worn, dirt road well. He knows every tree that frames its pathway, tall and full of rigor and alive with greenery. He knows every beaten out trail to the nearby river, and all the dug out pits used for camping by many of Konoha’s shinobi. He knows the crisp smell of winter in the Land of Fire, the air rich with the brittle chill. Hell, he could walk back to the village from here with his eyes closed.

This is home.

He’s happy for his home. He’s happy for the whole shinobi world, of course, to finally be at peace now, but he thinks it’s _his_ people that deserve it. They had fought off the destruction of their village how many times in the past four years? Not to mention the fact that Konoha, though fast rebuilding, was most likely going to permanently be in the huge crater that “Pain” had left.

But his people are happy now. He protected them.

He wonders when he started calling the people of Konoha ‘his’. He certainly hasn’t done it all his life, not when they hated him, when they despised him. Even in his early childhood ambitions of recognition, he had not called them his people. He supposes it could be when he came back from Sage training at Mount Myoboku, in the middle of Pain’s invasion. The rage he had felt when he saw the devastation, it had been for the people of Konoha.

The people precious to him. The people that he hoped he could one day truly call his.

Naruto, deep in thought, almost doesn’t notice the man that comes swinging a kunai at him. He steps back at the last second, easily grabbing the man’s thin wrist and twisting it behind him. The blonde plucks the kunai out of the attacker’s grasp with his other hand without much effort.

Upon closer inspection, the kunai is old and dull, muddled with dents. The man’s clothes are ragged, covered in dirt and grime that is no doubt weeks old. The man is gaunt and frail, and old, it seems. A twinge of sympathy goes through Naruto as the man begins to shake.

“Who are you, and why do you attack the shinobi of Konoha?” Kakashi asks, the standard question when confronted with a bandit.

Naruto thought it was odd — why would this man be so close to Konoha, if he had no shinobi skills, especially after their victory in war? An act like that was practically begging for trouble.

The man shakes his head and drops to his knees. He does not say a word, nor attack out again as Naruto releases him and tosses the kunai somewhere into the forest.

They wait, in terse silence, before they all share a look.

“Hey, man,” Naruto says, gingerly touching the man’s back. “Do you need food? Or shelter?”

The man wrenches away from the blond’s grip, and the bags under his eyes are accompanied by the dark discoloration from what is undoubtedly exhaustion.

“I don’t need any help from shinobi,” the man sputters angrily. His eyebrows knot together over cold, beady eyes that glimmer with hunger and madness. “You know what shinobi did? You took everything away from me in your damn war. First, it was my wife, thirty years ago. Now it’s my home, my business…! I don’t want your sympathy or your kindness, if you even have any. Leave me be! I won’t take anything you people!”

Naruto’s heart hurts and his stomach churns apprehensively. He doesn’t know this man at all, but he can tell that the old man used to be one of his people.

He doesn’t realize that he’s been standing there, opening and closing his mouth at a complete loss of what to say to the man, until Sasuke sets a hand on his shoulder and pulls him along.

“Come on, dobe,” he says, and despite his usual stoic demeanor, Naruto can sense a tone of sadness in his friend. “There’s no point. Let’s go home.”

The blond’s knees lock into place and he clenches his hands into fists, but Sasuke shoves him forward, forcing him to continue. Naruto grits his teeth and begrudgingly shuffles forward. He finds that he cannot meet the angry eyes of the old man. He knows he deserves that horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach because he does not help the stranger, which is something he has always done his entire life.

He is tired. Naruto is tired and for once, he finds that he cannot find the strength to help.

“Things aren’t always going to be the way they are now, are they?” he says, after a couple minutes of silence.

Sai raises a thin eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Things aren’t always going to be peaceful. Something’s going to come up. Some conflict. The peace…the world that we worked so hard to create…one day, it’s all going to be for nothing!”

He is shaking and if he was younger, elongated nails would be digging into the palms of his tightly clenched fists. He almost shivers instinctively, when he knows the rush of the malevolent chakra of the Kyuubi would be clawing it’s way into his system. But he’s in control.

“That’s how the world works, Naruto,” Kakashi says.

It's the sad truth. Naruto knows that his sensei understands — his sensei, who was in a war himself at the vulnerable time of childhood. But that doesn’t stop an iron grip from suffocating his heart inside his chest.

“Nothing ever stays the same for long. But what’s important is how we enjoy it.” The older man clasps Naruto’s shoulders tightly, and the blond is forced to look up at Kakashi’s face. “You are the savior of the world, Naruto. Enjoy the peace while you have it. Enjoy the happiness you will find. That is what matters in the end. Live life for the moment now. We will cross the other bridges when we come to them.”

Naruto takes a deep breath, and allows a sense of calm to flow into him. He’s just concealing what’s really there beneath the surface.

For now, it’ll have to do.

* * *

 

The Hyuuga sisters breathe in and out in perfect harmony in the crisp, early morning air of December.

They’re supposed to be meditating, and though she thinks Hanabi might be, Hinata is definitely not. Her thoughts keep running all over the place and she can’t herd them all in quickly enough. She is completely unbalanced today.

She’s tired, for one — it was another late night studying Hyuuga scrolls, although she had been able to get a better head start on her reading than she had last time. Her mind was still processing and going over all the information she had absorbed last night. Despite the fact that she was exhausted, she was proud. It had taken her so long to finally achieve the respect of her clan, of her family, and she allows herself to feel happy in her accomplishment. She would do whatever it took to properly lead her clan, the way it needed to be led — to help her people and her village.

Her village, which was flourishing. Despite that around this time of year, the city was usually down in its spirits in reaction to the uncharacteristic chill in the Land of Fire, something had seemed to come alive in the village. Everyone smiles at one another, shinobi often took extra shifts for no pay at all, just for something to do, to help out in some way. Hinata thinks it’s because they could sense that their savior, their hero was about to come back.

It had been two months since Team 7 left, and two months since she had been anxiously awaiting her answer to a question that has been long asked.

She’s anxious. She doesn’t know how relationships work — do any of them? It’s not like she could ask for sound advice from any of her peers. None of them know how relationships work, either. They never had time for relationships, despite the constant fawning they had all done over someone at some point.

If she was honest with herself, she’s never thought anything would come out of this, not with him. She always thought she was forever consigned to watching and admiring from afar. She would have been okay with that. Maybe.

But it was her courage — rather, her selfishness that had changed everything, wasn’t it? He would have never known, if it hadn’t have been for that day.

Hinata wonders how he feels. She thinks that he might like her, just maybe, but mostly she hopes. She hopes that he feels something, just _something_ for her, too. She hopes that he also feels the pleasant, fluttering tingle whenever they lace their fingers together, that he feels the same warmth unfurling in his chest whenever they look into one another’s eyes. She hopes that he also understands the frantic thudding of her heart when he’s near, of the smile that can’t help but grace her face when she hears his laughter.

Oh, she was so hopelessly, pointlessly in love with him.

She knows that Naruto will not break her heart, because that is not the kind of man he is. But even so, Hinata is terrified and so she prays.

“Hinata.”

She jumps slightly, an obvious display of her failed attempt at meditation, something she usually excels at. She bashfully averts her eyes from her father’s, an old habit from harsher days. “Yes, Father?”

“Your team is waiting for you in hallway,” he says in a hushed tone, trying not to disturb Hanabi, who is quiet next to her.

Hinata nods her thanks, before checking out the hallway. She’s wearing her casual Hyuuga robes that she always meditates in, and realizes they must have a sudden mission when she eyes them in their shinobi garb.

“Guard duty at the gates,” Kiba explains as they begin to walk to her room. “Nothing special. Just a formality. Guess they just forgot to fill in someone until now.”

“Tsunade-sama is very busy,” Shino agrees. “It does not surprise me that she would have overlooked something as insignificant as that at a time like this.”

Hinata darts inside her room to quickly change into her proper attire, while her teammates wait outside the door.

She remembers when they had returned, when she had been able to strip away the grime and the blood that stained her uniform and her skin. It had been comforting to put on her jacket again, something familiar after weeks spent in the standard Konoha uniform during the war. After the weeks spent in foreign land, it had smelled like home and brought her relief in the form of familiarity.

There was a lot she did just for a glimpse back into the past. Some nights she curls up with Neji’s old robes clutched to her chest and talks to him. Pretends he’s there with her. When she saw Hanabi emerge from her room one day, wearing Neji’s old Genin shirt over her normal outfit, she broke down into tears. Her sister had, too.

But the mood of her team had snapped right back to normal after the war, during the day anyway. While they were much stronger as a team now, much more emotionally connected in so many new ways, it was normal to be like they always were. During the day, they could all pretend everything was ok, because they trust each other. They knew that when it mattered, they would be there for the tears and the grief. They knew that they couldn’t cry all the time — they had to be useful, for their village, for each other, and for themselves.

For now, it was simple and easy.

“Kiba, you reek of dog.” Since Shino’s stay at the Inuzuka’s, he had taken to becoming a lot more blunt and much more playful around them. “You really shouldn’t let Akamaru sleep in your bed with you.”

“Hey, fuck you!” Kiba sputters, and the canine at his side whines accordingly. Hinata jabs him in his ribs with a clear look that he’s seen many times before — _don’t curse in the household_. “If you and I get to sleep in a bed, then Akamaru should too! He’s as good as any ninja person!”

“Yes, but you and I also bathe regularly.” Shino lifts an eyebrow. “Or is that just me?”

Hinata’s tittering laughter chimes like bells with the Shino’s low chuckles and Akamaru’s accompanying yaps. Her boys, her _family_ , always make her feel so numbingly pleasant. She can forget absolutely everything when she’s with them.

“Looks like we should give you another bath, huh, Akamaru?” she teases, ruffling the top of the large dog’s head. He whines playfully at her and nips at the back of her legs.

Everything is easy between them.

They make their way to the village gate and relieve the team on duty, who were playing cards on the grass. Guard duty nowadays was more formality than anything — no one would attack another village after the war. It was an era of peace, after all, and who would dare cause an end to it? So most shinobi spend their guard duties fooling around and mostly doing a whole lot of nothing, but Team Kurenai does it with as much effort and seriousness that they do anything with.

An hour passes by slowly, and unfortunately, they’re on the lunch-to-dinner shift.

“So hungry,” Kiba moans, clutching his growling stomach.

Hinata reaches behind her from her post to grab a backpack. With an almost smug smile, she pulls out three bento boxes. “Well, I’m glad I already had some lunch made for us today.”

Kiba’s eyes go wide and a wide grin settles across his face. “Hinata, you’re the best. I’ll get it writing.”

“How did you prepare for this?” Shino asks with a grateful tone, taking a bento. “We weren’t assigned duty until this morning.”

“Oh, I just thought we would be training around this time anyway,” she answers, handing a bento to Kiba before opening her own, “and I thought it would be nice for us to share a home-cooked meal together for lunch, instead of just going out like normal.”

They smile at each other and set themselves down on the grass in a circle to eat. They chime their thanks and begin to eat. They share laughs and jokes in between bites, and it’s like normal, like it always was. She couldn’t ask for better friends, better brothers, really.

Her teammates love her for her thoughtfulness and care without any warning or any desire to be paid back. She was simply _sweet_ , in the purest sense of the word.

Akamaru, who was taking a nap as they ate, suddenly lifts his head and barks.

Kiba raises an eyebrow, before turning to smirk at Hinata. “Hey, guess who Akamaru just smelled on their way?”

With a quick glance of her Byakugan, her suspicions are confirmed. Team 7 was on their way back, and perhaps only ten minutes away.

The anxiety that had faded away into the pit of her stomach suddenly blossomed inside her. Her heart feels like it’s going to burst inside her chest. Her mind races through the heartbreaking thoughts had plagued her over the past couple months without his reassuring eyes to calm her down.

What if he said no to her? What if he thought she was creepy? What if he had just been humoring her for the past couple months of their talking, just waiting for a chance to push her away?

“Eh? So what’s up with you and lover-boy?” Kiba asks, nudging her in the shoulder with the end of a chopstick. “You’re definitely freaking out. I can see it in your pre-blush.”

A true blush creeps up her neck at her teammate’s teasing. 

“It’s just — we just, he said…” She can’t even process words right now, what the hell was she going to do? In frustration, Hinata covers her face with her hands, and the frustrated squeal she lets out is muffled.

“You’re going to talk about your relationship, correct? Now that he’s back.”

She nods, a heavy flush evident in her cheeks, and quickly returns to eating her lunch. She wants to be done before Team 7 passes through, after all. “I’m so overwhelmed, I just, ah, I don’t even know what to do. O-Or what to say! I feel like I always have it all planned out but when it comes out it’s just like, well, mush.”

“If I was Naruto, I would probably find it cute,” Kiba says, eating his final bite of lunch and setting the top back on the bento. He gives her a grin. “Knowing Naruto, he probably does.”

“D-Don’t say that, Kiba-kun! That’s embarrassing!”

“But it’s a compliment.” Shino and Kiba give each other a look. “You have to work on accepting compliments more readily. Do you truly have a problem with being ‘cute’?”

They all know she’s gotten better at it, but whenever it came to Naruto… They all knew it was a special circumstance. But it was always fun to tease her.

“Oh, just stop!” Hinata smiles as she says it, and punches them both playfully in the arm. They pack up the bento together and take their posts once more.

Hinata can feel the anticipation growing inside her as she feels Team 7’s unmistakable chakra signatures coming closer and closer. Her teammates say nothing, satisfied in their teasing for now. They know that for her, this was very serious and they knew when to stop the jokes. They can see her hands as they begin to shake ever so slightly.

“You’ll be fine,” Kiba murmurs to her, when they can finally see the group in sight. “Just breathe.”

She takes a deep breath in and out, but staring straight at their approaching figures still makes her nervous. Her Byakugan is active, as was the norm during guard duty, so she can see the shock run through Naruto’s body as he realizes it’s _her_ standing there. She watches his heart rate rise a little — so he was nervous too, huh? That makes her feel a lot better.

“Oi!” Kiba calls with a grin when they’re within earshot, only about a few dozen meters in front of them. “So you’re still alive, eh, Sasuke?”

Sasuke narrows his eyes at the brunette in the classic Uchiha glare, before sighing. Kiba harrumphs at that — not even worth a biting remark?

_Typical from this guy_ , he thinks with an eye roll.

“We’re glad that you have returned safely,” Shino says.

He was always making up for his teammate’s rancorous behavior. He knows that it was a tease, but really, Kiba should know by now how far to push their other comrades. Though Shino supposes he can’t blame the brunette. After all, this was how he teased the other guys, why should Sasuke be any different?

During this exchange, Hinata’s pale eyes flicker up to Naruto’s, as they continue walking. She can see the nervousness in his eyes, the tension in his body language, but at that moment his eyes soften and he relaxes. She feels her heart flutter and soar at the gentle look he gives her.

There was a new kind of determination in their eyes. Despite the trepidation both of them had been feeling before, the nervousness, they know that they don’t have to be afraid. It reminds Hinata of the war, of the way they had been able to stare into each others eyes with determination. Of the way _she_ had been able to pick him back up for once. It reminds her of the way that the resolve in his eyes had always allowed her to pick herself back up, too.

He says no words, but she can tell from his eyes what he’s asking her. The way they cautiously gaze at her, the slight widening of his pupils, the small, upward twitch of his eyebrow. Although she usually couldn’t read him, Konoha’s Number One Most Unpredictable Ninja, she hears the words that his lips does not speak.

Hinata gives a small, almost imperceptible nod, before shyly glancing away. But she sees his sapphire eyes light up and the way his mouth stretches into a grin.

“Oi, quit harassing my team, Mutt-breath!”

“Excuse me? I’ll kick your ass for that!”

“You can try!”

Hinata takes a deep breath, in and out, and smiles. She saw it in his eyes — he would not break her heart.

They would meet at that bench again, tonight. After her guard duty was over, after he had settled back in, they would meet. They would talk.

She would know exactly how he feels.


End file.
